It seems pretty clear that Nanny's House Party is going to end soon. After almost three weeks of three square and beautiful meals a day, hours of sitting by the fire under a special blanket won at bingo, and a tuck-in every night with a sugar-free cookie and a heated rice bag, Nanny sat with her breakfast tray this morning and tearfully realized that she could not eat.
Shortly after that--and after an excruciatingly slow but driven-by-a-will-of-iron trip to the potty, my mother and I tucked her into her bed for perhaps the last tuck. She's been there since morning, in and out of sleep, with periods of long, long apnea, times of distress, and other periods of peaceful good humor.
We know she's ready.
Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus.